"A king, realizing his incompetence, can either delegate or abdicate his duties. A father can do neither. If only sons could see the paradox, they would understand the dilemma."
"I'm not happy about this John."
"I know, you've said."
"You're going to have to do something."
"What exactly!" John Bates exclaimed in frustration at his wife, "Honestly Anna. Andrew is a man now, he can make his own decisions."
"He's 18. He knows nothing of the real world and he knows nothing of war." Anna retorted.
"Oh and you do."
"Don't get smart John." John turned to look at her from his position at the fireplace. "I remember the last time well enough."
"I'm sorry, that was harsh of me." Still Anna did not look up at him instead chose to study the bottom of her now empty mug. Exhaling he crossed their small living room and sat down beside her.
"I don't think I'll ever forgot the day Mister Matthew returned with William. I don't think I'll ever get the picture of William on his wedding day out my mind." John grasped her hand as her voice wavered. "Those images never leave you John and you know better than I do. I don't want that to be Andrew...I...I couldn't bear it." Letting go of her hand John instead wrapped his arms around her and held her close as she tried to stifle sobs against his shirt. "Please...try and speak to him...don't let him go until...until, God forbid, he has to."
She felt him kiss the top of her head. "I'll try, I don't think it will help seeing as I'm probably the last person he'll listen to, but I promise you, I'll try."
Andrew John Bates had never had the best relationship with his father. His two younger sisters, Lucy and Margaret adored him and at one point he had too, somewhere along the way that had all changed. Why lie? If he was being completely honest with himself, he knew exactly what it had been that had caused him to become disillusioned from his father. The memory that so often plagued his mind resurfaced.
"You're pa's a cripple!"
"He is not!" Andrew shouted back at the group.
"Is too! Can't even walk properly."
"shut up!"
"What you going to do? Cry? You're just as pathetic."
"Sod off Henry!" and Andrew pushed the boy with all his force throwing him to the ground. Wrong move. He was outnumbered and Henry's group was full of boys 3 years older than he.
Next thing he knew, Andrew was on the floor. He felt the kicks and fists.
"Oi!" Hearing the voice the group ran for it.
Andrew felt a voice, "you're pa's useless and so are you." Before he could even look up whoever it was had run off. Andrew tried to get to his feet.
"Andrew are you alright son?" John arrived on the scene leaning heavily on his cane after having run. He pulled his son to his feet and was surprised when Andrew tugged himself away. "Andrew?"
"I'm fine."
From the day Andrew's life in school and around the village had been a living hell. And he blamed his father.
Now that war had come all the other boys had left to enlist. Andrew was left having being deterred from going by his mother. She was adamant he would not sign up to fight until it was absolutely necessary, but he'd had enough. He wanted to fight for his King and country. He wanted to risk his life on the front. Maybe if he became a hero people would forget about his father and see that Andrew was not like him.
John stood at the kitchen window watching his son. The animosity between the two broke his heart. Where had it all gone wrong? Now the two couldn't have a simple conversation without it turning into an argument. Anna always said it was because they were both too alike, stubborn and opinionated. She'd been begging him to talk with Andrew for weeks, to try share some of his war experiences with Andrew so that he would consider his decision more informed. John never liked to speak of his time in the war least of all to his children in fact he'd never mentioned it to them. He had dreamed they would never have to suffer it, his dream had not prevailed.
Steeling himself, he made his way up the garden path to where his son sat on the wall. "Leave me alone, Pa, I know mum sent you out but my mind's made up."
"Is it? And what is it you've decided?" John said looking down at the village.
"I'll go sign my name tomorrow."
"And what exactly is it you're signing up for, do you know?"
Andrew stared at his father straight in the eye. "For the honour of fighting for my King and my country. To do my bit in whatever way I can to win this war."
"I'm afraid you're extremely naïve if you think there's honour in war. What you think you can be a hero?"
"Why not? And what would you know of it?"
"A lot more than you think. I was at Downton last time, they used the house as a convalescent home. The men they brought in...it wasn't the physical injuries but the mental scars left behind too. Those that survive have to live with the memories, have to live with taking another man's life-"
"To win a war but, to fight for the right cause." Andrew said defiantly.
"You think those other men don't think the same."
"So Hitler's right?"
"Don't put words in my mouth. All I'm trying to say is that there is no right in war, only wrong on both sides."
The younger man turned his head away, "Leave me alone!"
"Think about your mother then, your sisters."
"If I died-"
"Don't speak like that."
"I'd die a hero." Andrew said puffing out his chest.
"Andrew! We'd rather have you alive. I've told you there's no honour in war. No heroes."
"Again, how would you know!" Andrew lost his patience, another similarity Anna compared with John. Andrew's tendencies to fly off the handle when he became frustrated. Of course John had managed to get a grip on that side of himself when Anna came into his life. Being young, Andrew had not.
"I know a lot more than-" John was also losing his composure.
"You're just a cripple."
John felt as though he'd been slapped in the face. Andrew must have realised what he'd said because after a gasp and a few moments of baffled silence he fled into the house, leaving his father standing outside.
Andrew ran upstairs slamming his room door shut behind him. He jammed his fists into his eyes determined to stop the flow of tears.
Anna woke with a start as the door slammed. Andrew. She collapsed back on the pillow, living with John and Andrew was exhausting, dealing with their arguments and playing peacemaker took its toll. She lay awake expecting to hear John's tired half step heading up the stairs but it never came. After 20 minutes she got up. Deciding to give Andrew his space she popped her head into the girls bedrooms. They had both slept through the noise thankfully.
Making her way downstairs she walked through to the kitchen. From the window she could see John sitting on the wall their son had previously occupied. His shoulders were hunched low and she could tell immediately he was upset, more upset than he usually was after an altercation with Andrew. She changed her mind about giving Andrew his space, deciding she's get his side of things first. If she went to John, Andrew would view it as her taking his side, she could rely on John to be an adult - most of the time.
Reaching his door she knocked once then entered before waiting for a reply. He was sat on his small bed tossing the cricket ball he'd received for his birthday up and down in the air. His eyes were red and puffy as he looked up at Anna. "Andrew.." she began softly.
"No, Ma. I'm sick of talking, just leave me be."
"You need talking to." Anna said more sternly. "Both me and your father want to keep you safe, is that so difficult to understand? We at least want you to make an informed decision rather than run off to war not knowing the harsh realities of it."
"How would Pa know, he's never gone, he can't. I can."
"Andrew John Bates. Your father knows better than anyone." Anna could see that it was up to her to tell Andrew John's story knowing that he never would and it was the only way to bridge the gap between father and son. The hostility had gone on long enough. "Now, listen." Andrew seemed taken aback by his mother's sharp tone but remained silent all the same. "Your Pa, knows more about war than he likes to remember. You learned about the Boers at school? Your father lived it."
"What?" Andrew's eyes had widened.
"He fought in Africa. He fought alongside Lord Grantham and he saved his life, that's how he injured his leg."
"Why did he never say?" Andrew's voice was choked. Anna took his hand.
"It's a time of his life he chooses to forget. He's still plagued to this day with nightmares."
"What happened to his leg?"
"Shrapnel, he was caught in the blast he saved Lord Grantham from."
"Oh god." Andrew tossed his head in his hands and could do nothing to stop the tears. "Ma, what should I do? I...I was so awful to him."
He was filled with self disgust as his history with his father flooded through his mind. He remembered right back to his younger days were he'd dragged him out to play ball and chases, his father had never once shown any sign of pain yet he must have been in agony. Even now he still ran and kept up with the girls never once complaining.
He felt Anna's hand on his shoulder. "Go find him, I think he headed out for a walk."
Andrew stood and nodded, he was at the door when he walked back in and embraced his mother, "Thanks Ma, I'm sorry."
"Something tells me it's not me that needs your apology." Placing a hand on his cheek and staring directly into his brown eyes, "Go see your pa."
John had wandered down to the river. He stood staring at the moon that reflected in the still water. He felt numb. He'd tried his best for his children despite his disability and had always managed for them. But, to hear those words come from his own son, he was heartbroken. The more rational part of him knew Andrew had reacted in the heat of the argument, but that side was not succeeding in making him feel any better. The tears flowed.
Andrew ran as quick as he could down to where he was sure his father would be. He felt sick with guilt and had done almost as soon as the words had left his mouth. That initial feeling combined with the truth he had learned left him ill with self-loathing. He had no idea where to even start.
"Go home Andrew, tell your mother not to wait up."
"Pa I'm sorry, I never-"
But John cut across him and Andrew could hear his voice was thick. "Forget about it. Go home."
Andrew nodded a solitary tear flowed down his cheek. His pa hadn't even turned to look at him. Turning he took a few steps back towards home then stopped. "Ma told me about your leg. That you fought with Lord Grantham." John turned in surprise. The look on his father's face was one Andrew had never seen on any man before, he looked broken and it was his fault. "She told me how you risked your life to save him, about the shrapnel in your knee, about...about the pain it gives you...how you're a hero...and I...I'm...oh Pa I'm so sorry." The barrier broke and the tears came tumbling down Andrew's face.
Without a moment of hesitation, John stepped forward, wrapping his arms around his son. After initially struggling for a moment Andrew folded into him, repeating apologies through his tears.
"you, and your sisters, mean the world to me and your ma. You're our shining lights and all we want is for you to be safe."
"Pa, please I'm so-" John shook his head and took Andrew's face between his hands. He looked in to his boy's hazel eyes, the one's that matched his.
"It's forgotten. It was a moment of madness and god knows your Pa's had his fair share of them. It's forgotten, ok? Finished." Andrew nodded, hugging his father again.
"I love you Pa."
"I know you do. I love you too, however, whatever, whenever. Now come on, lets go home. No doubt your ma will be pacing the floors." Andrew laughed.
Anna watched her two men appear at the bottom of the garden with great relief. As the two stepped through the front door she could see the residue of emotion on noth their cheeks. "What am I going to do with you both?" Andrew looked down, while John chuckled placing a hand on his shoulder.
"go to bed son, we'll talk more in the morning."
"No need Pa, you were right, I should wait to be called up. I'm needed here."
Anna pulled him in for a bone crushing hug much to his embarrassment. After much protests of "Ma!" she released him, and with a final nod to his pa he headed to bed.
Anna followed John into the living room and watched as he slumped into his chair. She could see the emotional exhaustion in his eyes. She knew she'd have to wait for him to speak. Finally, he did.
"Did you know about the bullying?"
"what?"
John lifted his head from his hands to look at her. "Andrew. You knew he was being bullied."
"Fine. Yes I knew. He told me not to tell you-" John buried his face back in his hands. "John, what could I do. He was so angry."
"With me."
"John-"
"With his pathetic excuse for a father."
At that Anna knelt in front of him. She prised his hands away from his face and forced him to meet her gaze. "Don't you dare John Bates. You are a fantastic father. We are blessed to have you." He shook his head but Anna ploughed on. "The girls adore you. Andrew adores you. He was hurt, that's all, he was young John. You know more than most that feeling. What do I always say?"
"That we're too alike." John said a ghost of a smile unintentionally crossing his face.
"Exactly." She sat on his good leg as he opened his arms for her to snuggle further in to.
"I just love the three of them so much. I want to be the best for them."
"Just be you John Bates, that's all they need."
John pressed a kiss into her hair closing his eyes knowing that without her he wouldn't be anything.